Compliments to the Chef
by xXFlutterbyXx
Summary: Roxas learns what bangers are, Demyx is a nuisance, and Axel really needs to keep his mouth shut. Akuroku.


**A/N:** well, deviantart is kinda being screwy with me so CONGRATULATIONS! YOU GUYS GET THIS FIRST! *epic theme song plays* lol so that means no annoying "go to deviantart for the info" message! YAY! Unfortunetly, that also means that the info will bere HERE! lol XD Today the buses were cancelled at my school but I went anyways because it was the first day of the new semester. In math we had the option to sit around and do nothing or go to the food's room and watch a chef from the Culinary Arts School of Vancouver cook Ratitoulle! (is that how you spell it? lol) and it was really good! Anyways, so I was watching him cook and talk and whatnot, and randomly I just thought "Roxas chef. Akuroku. MUST BE DONE!" I actually flirted with a few ideas that were different, having Roxas work in an expensive hotel kitchen etc. But then I thought "well how the hell would Axel see him and undoubtedly fall madly in love with him?" lol so here we are XD haha I have to admit, every time I picture this in my head, I see them at this fish and chips restaurant in my town XD it just so happens that most of the environmental description matches hehe. Random. oh, and I also wanna add WOOT OVER 4,500 WORDS BABEH!! *is totally proud of self*

Also, I want to thank **AkitoTsubaki **for making it clear to me that I truly do tell instead of show. I hope this one's a little better! Please tell me if there is improvment lol XD

**Disclaimer:** Dude, if they were mine, pout #3 would have been played out in the game on several occasions XD

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"Order up!"

The ding of a small bell sounded for the umpteenth time that hour. He cringed every time that noise made it to his eardrums. He leaned over to grab the ticket for the next order, nametag with the name "Roxas" inscribed on it shimmering in the diminishing light of late afternoon.

Why did the cooks even have to wear nametags anyways? The restaurant he worked in was only a small town joint, not like anyone of actual prestige would learn his name any time in the near future.

It was a small place of business located next to the town's local gas station, mostly a stop for truckers and whatever load they were hauling. Covered in grease with the fabric on the seat long since torn, one could even call the place a dump, if, however, it weren't for the great service, and the food.

Roxas noted the order and got to work preparing the usual; a cheeseburger with fries. Usually such a mundane dish, Roxas somehow found a way to spice it up. He was the most promising of all the cooks in the kitchen, and he damn well better be. The only reason he was even working in this joint was to raise enough money to go to real culinary school. Roxas had a real talent with food, and he knew it. What he didn't have, unfortunately, was money. Sadly, preparing food seemed to be the _only_ thing Roxas was good at, and his grades had fallen way below the mark to even think about a scholarship. So here Roxas found himself; miserable, tired, and in serious need of a shower. Seriously, would the grease smell never come out of his hair?

Roxas placed his order on the window sill that separated the kitchen from the rest of the restaurant and smacked the bell with added flair. Okay, so he was sort of in his own little grease coated hell, but there was no reason he couldn't at least try to enjoy it. Right?

A pretty waitress with a long brown braid rounded the beverage counter and swooped up the dish, throwing Roxas an encouraging wink as she went by. Roxas smiled at her and continued to fill the next order. This one was a dessert order, which was really more Demyx's department.

Casually twiddling the piece of paper between his fingers, Roxas turned around, only to be presented with a very familiar sight. Okay maybe not so familiar. After all, Roxas had never seen Demyx dancing with a _mop_ before.

Twirling, light on his toes, the dirty blonde haired teen had coerced the mop into a dance routine, moving along with the salsa music flowing over the radio. Roxas smirked and inwardly chuckled, wondering how someone so shy had no problem flitting around the kitchen in his own little world, oblivious to the orders being shouted around him. Oh yeah. Demyx _flitted. _If one were to say that Demyx was flaming, that would be like saying the Titanic hit an ice cube. Right. _Huge_ understatement.

Roxas coughed roughly into his hand, finally catching the attention of his coworker. Demyx stopped abruptly, mid spin, and turned to stare into Roxas' obviously amused face. The blush that proceeded to spread itself across Demyx' face could nearly have reached his eyebrows. Realizing that he was holding the mop in an awkwardly intimate position, Demyx quickly held it behind him with both hands, smiling innocently and trying to play it off like he hadn't just been getting down and dirty with a cleaning item.

_Ahem_ "Yes Roxas?" He asked innocently, the quiver in his voice giving him away.

"Demyx, only you could flit around the room with a sopping wet stick and still make it look hot." He strolled over and handed Demyx the order. When Demyx didn't take it right away, Roxas looked up into his aqua eyes and saw the amusement in them. At first Roxas was confused, but after a few seconds realization dawned on him and he brought a hand to his forehead while a slight pink tinted his cheeks.

"Oh you are so immature." Demyx giggled and grabbed the order, turning to go and fill it.

"You're the one who said it, not me!"

"You're the one who went and turned it into something vulgar."

"You're just jealous because you _soooo_ wish that mop had been you!"

Roxas rolled his eyes, but couldn't keep a smile from spreading across his face. Demyx graced him with a quick seductive sway of his hips before giggling again and returning to work. The day had been slow, so Roxas and Demyx were the only cooks working that afternoon. Not to mention that the dishwasher had called in sick. Oh well, they'd flip a coin over who was stuck with dish duty later.

When Roxas turned around he was greeted with the image of the pretty waitress, whose nametag read "Aerith", impatiently drumming her fingers on the window sill, smirking.

"When you two are done flirting, could you please come and fill an order? Or maybe two? These customers, they come in swarms you know." Her teasing tone did nothing to hide the fact that he had to get back to work. Groaning, Roxas reluctantly dragged his feet back over to Aerith.

Aerith smiled softly and regarded Demyx with her deep green eyes. "You know, one of these days he's going to give in to sexual frustration and we'll find him in the broom closet, trying to get it on with the vacuum cleaner."

Roxas closed his eyes and sighed, raising a hand to squeeze the bridge of his nose. "Thank you Aerith, for that lovely mental picture." Aerith sauntered away, feeling as if she had achieved something. If it had been to scar Roxas for life, she had damn near succeeded.

"Any time!" It really was hard to be even a little ticked at Aerith when she had the voice of an angel. One would never suspect that under that soft, quiet exterior lay a teasing, sarcastic, and manipulative woman. Okay well, maybe not manipulative _perse_, but you try saying no to those puppy dog eyes of hers. Go on, try. I dare you.

---

For the next half hour, Roxas found himself in what some deemed as "The Zone". He was constantly pumping orders out as fast as they were coming in. Alright, so Demyx _was_ helping, if you could call it that. Somehow to Roxas, constantly being tripped and having his house keys experimentally dumped into the deep fryer didn't seem like helping. When the supper rush came though, Demyx decided it was finally time to wind down and actually do something constructive. Like washing dishes. Hah. Unlucky bastard.

After all, Roxas really was the better cook, and he took this rush hour as a time to demonstrate that fact. An extra spice here, maybe a slice of zucchini there, and Roxas was having the time of his life. Really, how could any one live without the creative thrill of creating an original dish? Alright, so the dishes weren't exactly original, but he could change enough about them to mold them into a truly "Roxas" creation. When Roxas got into a mood like this, he imagined himself in his own restaurant, wearing a real chef's jacket instead of his faded blue apron. In his day dream induced state, Roxas decidedly took on one of Demyx's less appealing traits and started to flit, yes _flit,_ about the kitchen area. He was so caught up in his own world that he failed to notice the spray of blood red hair that Tifa, the other waitress, was currently seating.

Roxas was blissfully twirling about, distributing ingredients into various concoctions in his own little universe while Demyx miserably scrubbed the dirty dishes and mumbled something about trick coins and how he'd own Roxas' ass next time.

---

Finally the dinner rush dulled to a quiet roar, and Roxas came down off of his cloud. Demyx had finished off the mountain of dishes that had threatened to swallow him whole. The two teens found more than enough time to twiddle their thumbs, occasionally breaking to have Demyx break out into spontaneous choreography to the corny music wafting through the kitchen, and then promptly fall flat on his face. Roxas laughed along with Aerith, who was leaning on the sill, casually chatting with the boys and sometimes snickering at Demyx's antics.

The conversation started to peter out as Aerith became more and more distracted, constantly checking over her shoulder for something. Roxas gave her a curious look, and when she turned around he questioned her.

"What do you keep looking at?" Aerith turned around once more to see if anyone was looking.

"You see that guy over there?" Aerith's finger pointed to the flash of red hair that Roxas had so failed to notice earlier. He was casually strewn over a booth across from the window, Newspaper blocking his face.

"He walked in like 45 minutes ago, and every time I go over to ask him if he wants anything, he just gives me this weird answer and hides back under his newspaper." Roxas was regarding the man with new curiosity. He quirked an eyebrow.

"What does he say?" Demyx joined in the conversation, obviously finding the mystery man very intriguing. If worse came to worse, he could blame it on the sexual frustration. Yeah, that always worked.

"He says that he wants 'bangers'. What the hell are 'bangers'?" Roxas shrugged, while Demyx's face lit up. Yes, a chance to use some of his useless knowledge.

"Bangers are what sausages are called in England."

Okay, now Roxas was really confused. "He wants sausages?" The request was only so insanely absurd because for one; there were at least three different kind of sausages on the menu and two; sausages were only served during breakfast hours which ended oh say…seven hours ago? "Well I guess you'll have to tell him to come back tomorrow in the morning if he wants any."

"Yeah, but he's been here so long, and seeing as I had no idea what he was talking about, I was kind of neglecting him…" Aerith trailed off, shooting Roxas one of her trademark puppy dog looks. Damn those eyes! Roxas crumbled like the pie crust he was so fond of handling.

"All right, all right, we'll make him the freakin sausages." Aerith hopped up and down in delight. Roxas was about to get to work when Demyx chimed in.

"You should go ask him what kind he wants." Damnit. Thanks Dem. An opportunity for culinary creativity and you just squash it like a bug.

Aerith nodded and hurried over to the man, obviously giddy with excitement. Neither Roxas nor Demyx really knew why, they just assumed that she really liked pleasing customers. Aerith practically skipped the last few steps as she skidded to a halt, addressing the customer. Usually the sound of the kitchen, even one in which nothing is going on, drones out the sound of the eating area, but Aerith must not have known her own excitement as her voice came out decibels louder than she had probably intended.

"Hello sir! We are finally ready to take your order! All I need to know is what kind of bangers you would like!" The man lowered his newspaper just enough so that Roxas and Demyx could see his eyes. They were a piercing green, and by the way they squinted as he was giving Aerith his order, which was much quieter and the teens in the kitchen couldn't hear, he looked as if he was smiling or possibly…smirking?

Aerith nodded and turned away, a befuddled and flustered look on her face. She quickly shuffled back to the window where a confused Roxas and Demyx awaited her.

"So what did he say? How does he want them?" Roxas had grabbed a few sausages and was now only waiting for Aerith's orders. A light flush spread itself across Aerith's cheeks and she rubbed the back of her neck nervously.

"I'm not sure you want to hear it Roxas." Roxas brows furrowed.

"What?"

"Well…" Aerith inhaled deeply one last time, "…He said…he said he wanted an order of one blonde, blue eyed banger, with a side order of…_ahem_…bangim all night long."

By now Aerith's blush covered her entire face and she was hanging her head in embarrassment. Demyx was standing behind Roxas, trying, and failing, to stifle his laughter. Somewhere a mop fell over, just for good measure.

Roxas on the other hand, failed to notice any of these things. After staring wide eyed at Aerith for a minute, Roxas suddenly jolted back into reality with a look of insurmountable rage.

"**WHAT?"**

Both Aerith and Demyx jumped at the sudden outburst, and when Aerith staggered to the side a little, the red headed man came into view.

His newspaper was now folded neatly in his lap, and that smirk that Roxas had sworn he had seen earlier well…let's just say that if he had any doubts before, he sure didn't now. His body language was perfectly innocent, but Roxas could see in those eyes that he was glaring into reflected pure lust. The man's grin broadened, flashing his pearly whites and flicking out a tongue to lick his lips seductively. Roxas' scowl only deepened at the gesture, his face becoming even redder; from rage, or possibly embarrassment, neither Aerith nor Demyx dare ask.

The man's grin never faltered, even when Roxas moved so that Aerith was blocking his view from Roxas, attempting to quell his anger. He leaned in close so that only Aerith and he could have possibly heard what he was saying.

"You tell him," he attempted not to sound too homicidal, "that that particular dish is not offered on the menu. However, I would be happy to fry, grill, or sauté any banger that he dare get anywhere near me."

Aerith looked into his eyes a little longer before turning around and walking none-so gracefully back towards the man's table. Roxas straightened up and crossed his arms, smirking ever so slightly. Oh yes, he wanted to see that defeated look don that man's features.

Aerith spoke to him quietly now, obviously uncomfortable being the messenger and hoping not to be killed. While she was talking, the man never broke eye contact with Roxas, smirk still unfaltering. When Aerith finished talking, the man glanced up to meet Aerith's eyes for a moment before looking back at Roxas, and doing something that Roxas really hadn't expected. He pouted. Puffed out bottom lip and all.

Much to Roxas' dissatisfaction, it was not a "I've been utterly defeated and bow to your superiority" kind of pout. It wasn't even a "If I just sit here and look all cute you'll forget your angry and be nice to me" kind of pout. Oh no, it was the mother of all pouts. It was the "I'm going to pretend to be disappointed but I really know that by the end of the night I'll have you bent over the beverage counter screaming my name" kind of pout. In conclusion, the last kind of pout Roxas wanted to see. Ever. In his entire life. Which included right now. Damnit.

It took all of one millisecond for Roxas' smirk to turn into a scowl, fingers painfully gripping his folded arms.

The man looked back up at Aerith as his expression quickly changed to something that anyone whose ass, and apparently banger, was not on the line would have mistaken for a sincere smile. This group, however, did not include Roxas. The man said something to Aerith, and then while she was leaving the table, he tilted his head to the side, pointedly not looking at Roxas just to irk him. Or so Roxas figured. Aerith returned to the window.

"What did that horny bastard say this time?" The acid dripping from Roxas' words was extremely apparent.

"He said that was too bad, and if he couldn't have the sweetest tasting banger in the restaurant," Another flush across Aerith's face. Seriously, she wasn't making the situation any easier, "then he would have whatever banger you felt like making."

Roxas looked suspiciously from Aerith to the man, who was still examining a particularly interesting speck on the wall. He looked back at Aerith.

"That's not some kind of idiotic sexual innuendo that makes no sense, is it?" Roxas was starting to cool off, but he was far from calm.

"I don't think so. I think he's actually starting to get hungry, seeing as he's been here almost an hour with the delicious aroma of your food floating around." Aerith looked genuinely like she believed what she was saying, so Roxas decided to believe it too. Giving the stranger one last scrutinizing look, Roxas spun on his heels and uncrossed his arms to get a frying pan. Well, if this pervert wanted sausages, he'd give him the best damn sausages he'd ever taste.

Roxas tossed the meat into the frying pan and let his culinary skills work their magic. The only way the scene could have been any more magical would have been if music by Mary Poppins had been playing in the background. It seemed the current Ricky Martin song blaring over the radio would have to do.

When Roxas had finished, his dish practically glowed in its entire splendor. The sausages were rich with flavor and surrounded by a succulent sauce. The smell was enough to make your mouth water, which Roxas was attempting to keep Demyx from doing all over the plate. The dish looked like something from a five star restaurant rather than a dumpy little joint off of route 54.

Roxas contemplated spitting on the plate, just out of spite, but decided against it, thinking that the dish was just too beautiful for saliva. Using one hand to support the plate and the other to fend off a suddenly ravenous Demyx, Roxas dinged the little golden bell.

"Order Up!"

Tifa had long since gone home, her shift over, and Aerith cheerfully came to collect the plate. Even she whistled at how great the food looked, not to mention smelled. Aerith picked up the plate, but stopped before walking off, shooting Roxas a questioning look. He smiled a little and shook his head, answering her silent question that all of his saliva was still safely contained in his mouth.

Smiling in approval, Aerith practically bounded over to the table, careful not to disrupt the steaming plate.

Aerith set the plate down in front of the red head and said something that could have been, "Here you go sir! Enjoy!"

Roxas didn't see the man eat his food, nor did he want to. Why would he want to see his beautiful, flawless creation hacked up and then devoured in that mouth that had been God knows where?

Roxas shook his head and called Demyx over, informing him that it was time to start cleaning up. The restaurant would be closing soon, and Roxas wanted to get out on time. Not to mention he wanted Demyx around him at all times to make sure he stayed out of that freakin broom closet. Roxas shuddered just thinking about it.

---

About ten minutes to closing the man finished his meal and patted his stomach happily. Aerith brought him his bill and he casually handed her a credit card. Roxas was in the process of wiping down the sill when Aerith placed the bill for the man to sign in front of him and then made her way back to the cash register, going back to doing cash-out. It was at the moment that Roxas noticed the man flip the bill over and start writing something on the blank side. Roxas' eyes narrowed, but his curiosity piqued. Did he really want to know what that perverse stranger had written down?

The man stood up and strutted over to the cash register. He flicked the bill in Aerith's general direction, it fluttering down to rest comfortably on the counter top. Just before exiting, he turned back to catch Roxas' eyes and threw him a small wink, and with that, he was gone. Roxas released a breath. He hoped it was for good.

---

Roxas grabbed his coat and threw it over his shoulders. Demyx had already left, and Aerith was usually the one to close up shop. Pushing through the kitchen doors, Roxas entered the eating area, sauntering past the booths and stools towards the door. He stopped to say his farewell to Aerith and grasped the door handle.

"Wait a second." Roxas turned and raised an eyebrow. It had been a long day. He was extremely tired, had been scarred by images of vacuums in places not meant for dust-busting, and had been verbally molested. He was _not_ in the mood to wait.

Aerith popped open the cash register and shoved a small piece of paper into Roxas' hand. He looked down, noticing the ink from the till and what looked to be some kind of signature, though it looked more like someone had gotten bored in the middle of it and decided to doodle instead. Turning it over, Roxas noticed a note scrawled neatly in ink;

_My compliments to the chef,_

_Sexy,_

_Sassy,_

_And an amazing cook_

_Makes me wonder what else you have to offer._

The bottom of the paper had seven digits, creating a phone number.

Roxas wrinkled his nose. The guy didn't even freakin know his name! Hell, he didn't even know the _guy'_s name! Where the hell did he get off…

Roxas' thought's continued and Aerith just giggled at his amusing expression.

"Thought you should have that. Goodnight!"

Roxas murmured a farewell of his own, disappearing through the glass door and into the chilled air of evening. He pulled the collar up close to his neck to keep the wind from getting in.

Looking down for one last time at the small paper in his hand, Roxas scoffed at no one in particular and crumpled up the paper, tossing it to the pavement to become just another piece of litter.

"I thought you'd do that." Roxas' head shot up to connect with the blazing green eyes of the stranger, leaning up against the exterior wall of the building, cigarette hanging from his mouth. "That's why I stayed. To make sure you remembered it."

Roxas took a defensive stance and scowled. "What the hell? I don't even know your name and you just expect me to…"

"Axel."

Roxas was caught off guard. "What?"

"The name's Axel," He pushed off of the wall, swinging is much too feminine hips as he walked over to Roxas. He stopped in front of him and leaned down slightly. Roxas' eyes widened, but narrowed again into slits as he was poked in the forehead. "Got it memorized?"

Roxas pulled out from under the man. Damn, he had seemed a lot shorter in the booth. Roxas felt like a dwarf standing next to this guy.

"Whatever." Roxas turned to walk off but was stopped by a strong hand on his shoulder.

"What, I don't even get to know your name? Or would you prefer something like puddin' pie, or muffin dumpling?" The man smirked. Roxas turned around and gave the man a look of disbelief. What the hell was muffin dumpling?

"I'm leaving now." For the second time Roxas tried to make a clean getaway, but to no avail. This time however, he was caught by his front zipper, not his shoulder. And just when he was thinking that Axel's hand on his shoulder was the most violating thing he'd ever felt. It seemed Axel was one to set a new personal best.

"What…What the hell are you doing?" Roxas frantically tried to escape as he felt his coat zipper being pulled down, but was held in place by the man's other firm hand. Great, getting raped right outside his place of business. Just freakin peachy. He silently wondered if Aerith would hear him if he screamed. Probably not.

"Get off me!" Roxas shouted. Axel's face was passive and completely unreadable, which freaked Roxas out al the more. When Axel got the zipper all the way down, He held open Roxas' jacket, smiled, and then promptly proceeded to zip up Roxas' jacket again.

Okay, now Roxas really was confused. Had the rape really been that fast? Shouldn't he be feeling pain somewhere on his person? Something?

Axel straightened up and smiled down at Roxas.

"Roxas. That's a cute name." Roxas furrowed his eyebrows before realization finally dawned on him. Of course. The name tag. Axel wouldn't have been able to read it from his booth. But he would have seen that it was there.

Roxas released a giant breath. Well, he may have just been stripped against his will, but at least it wasn't rape. Sort of.

"That was really violating you know." Roxas drawled in a pointedly unamused manner.

"I know." That freak. He even looked proud of himself. Weirdo.

"Then again, what was I expecting after what you said in there."

Axel dramatically threw his hand up and rested the back of it against his forehead. "Roxas, I'm hurt!" There it was again, that pout that Roxas despised oh so much. Except now they weren't in the restaurant, so the beverage counter would be substituted with something else. The bus bench maybe? Roxas tried not to think about it.

"Besides," Axel said, looking almost completely normal again. Or at least, as normal as one can look when their hair looks like someone set it on fire and then cryogenically froze it, "You have to admit, that was a pretty original pick-up line."

Roxas rolled his eyes. Original. Not exactly the word he was looking for. Perverted, disgusting, disturbing, insulting. Yeah, those seemed to fit better.

"So," Axel continued, taking one last drag from his cigarette, tossing it to the ground and firmly smushing it into a nice tobaccoey mush, "Do you want me to give you my number again, or should I follow you home and give it to you in the morning?" Axel raised an eyebrow suggestively, his old smirk returning. Roxas had decided he'd had enough.

"No thanks." And with that, Roxas stalked off, heading for home. He wasn't stopped this time, but it wasn't like the red headed freak was just going to let him leave, just like that. Of course he had to follow.

"Oh come on, why not?" He almost let the smallest bit of a whine seep into his seductive voice. Almost. Roxas turned his head, still walking, and regarded him with an expressionless face.

"I don't like smoked bangers."

Axel faltered for a second in his steps, but caught up with Roxas quickly enough, a come back at the ready.

"Well I guess it's a good thing it doesn't smoke then." This earned Axel a nice elbow jab to the stomach, but even that couldn't wipe the smile off of his face. Actually, Roxas found himself smiling too.

Axel inched his way closer to Roxas and slung his arm over the blonde's shoulder. He smiled triumphantly to himself when it wasn't instantly discarded.

"Axel?"

"Yes puddin' pie?"

"You're touching me." A chuckle.

"I know, ain't it grand?"

"Do you want a spatula up the ass?"

"Do you want me to want a spatula up the ass?"

A hand came up to greet Roxas' face. He was _so_ not going to let Axel see that smile. Not for all the bangers in the world.

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**End A/N:** And when they got back to Roxas' place, Axel truly defined the meaning of "bangers" XD lol Hope you all enjoyed it! I would beg for reviews I suppose, but I love this story to bits, so I'm sure you all will too! :D


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